Under The Hot Sun

Story from Blushes Supplement 20, which feels like a R.T. Mason one.

‘It’s hot,’ Antonia said fanning herself. ‘It’s too hot.’

It was hot, certainly, as it usually is on a June afternoon in southern Italy. Hot and sultry but nothing Antonia wasn’t used to; she had only come 40 kilometres from her own home to this, her father’s brother’s father-in-law’s place. And Uncle Paolo’s house was no hotter than the one she had grown up in. No, it was more just something to say. Small talk… She only saw Uncle Paolo occasionally, or had in the past, so he was partly a stranger and she felt awkward in his company. And there was also the matter of why she was here; why she had come to stay with him. Antonia knew the reason though it hadn’t actually been spelt out. That alone was enough to make her nervous, to feel the need to say something.

But perhaps on reflection what she had said was not the best of openers, in the circumstances. For there was an obvious answer. One which if Antonia had thought about it might have made her keep her mouth shut.

Uncle Paolo grinned at her. ‘Too hot, Tonia? OK. You take your clothes off then.’

She had been sent to stay with Paolo Barini as was the custom with girls in the region at Antonia’s age. A girl at that age needed discipline, otherwise who knew what she would be doing. Anything was possible with girls coming on twenty or so, driven by hot desires, not to mention the thought of money. Before one knew it even a respectable girl could be doing unthinkable things. Selling herself. It was not unknown. For a girl who had not received a certain taste of discipline, who had not had her soft and weak female body subjected to a little physical chastisement. And so wise parents would send a girl of that age to an older male relative. He would do what was required, what her own father might be more hesitant about.

No one actually said what he was to do. No one said what Uncle Paolo was to do to Antonia. But everyone understood. Antonia understood. Nonetheless Paolo’s words came as a sharp shock; like a slap in her pretty face. She glanced up at him from beneath lowered lashes. It could be a joke. But Paolo did not look as if he were joking. He came close, dark eyes hot on her.

‘You do what you’re told, Tonia? You’ve learnt that, eh? Obedience. It’s the main thing a girl your age has to learn.’

Colouring, Antonia nodded. Paolo’ s hand came up. His knuckles, sprouting stiff black hairs, rubbed across her pointy tits through the two thin layers of blouse and bra. She trembled but didn’t back away. Take her clothes off. Bare her tits before Paolo. And everything else. The thought gave her a woosy feeling. His knuckles slid across again.

‘Because if a girl has not learnt obedience, Tonia, she has to be taught it. With a whipping. She has her bare bottom whipped. Is that what you want?’

Antonia was hot now all right, her body under flimsy skirt and blouse tingling with sharp fright. Uncle Paolo wasn’t joking, she knew that. If he wanted to whip her he could. A girl could be whipped. Bent over a table or a chair, her bare bottom thrust out for a snaking leather strap or a cane. She had seen a cousin whipped by her father. A cousin who had come to stay for two weeks as she, Antonia, had now come to stay with Uncle Paolo. Antonia shook her head.

‘I am obedient, Uncle Paolo. Can I… do some work for you please? Some cleaning?’

‘I do not ask for cleaning, Tonia. Not at this moment. I ask you to take your clothes off. Are you going to do it or shall I take them off you myself? And then whip your bottom?’

‘Please… I’ll do it.’ There was no choice. Nervous fingers began fumbling at her blouse.

Paolo Barini, standing back a pace, felt a pleasant surge of lust. Not the lust of anticipating sex for he would not indulge in that with a relative, though distant, sent to his house for training; but a man’s natural lust at a young female body and his domination over her and that body. That was the proper order of things and it was natural to feel the thrust of excitement as she showed submission. It would perhaps have been even more exciting to have to strip the clothes off her himself, and then give her a whipping. But there was no doubt that Antonia would have a whipping before long, whatever she did. That after all was why she was here.

Antonia had the blouse half off. ‘OK. We will go upstairs,’ he told her. ‘Do it there, in your room. And then we will see what is needed more.’

Meekly Antonia turned towards the stairs. She had been shown a small, pleasant room by Paolo’s wife, Maria, when she arrived. Maria had now gone out — no doubt so that Paolo could get on with the business in hand. He followed her upstairs, and into the little room. The curtain was drawn against the hot sun leaving the room relatively cool. Paolo switched on the light. He had something in his hand. Something pink.

‘Everything off then, Tonia. And when I’ve had a look at you you can put this on.’

It was a little slip or something. Not looking at him Antonia slipped off her blouse. Paolo’s eyes on her pert tits in the white bra. The blue cotton skirt came off, and a white slip underneath. Antonia’s slim but curving form in brief white knickers and the bra. She pushed off her sandals. A nervous glance at Paolo and her hands went behind her. The bra. And the brief pants. Nude now. Making herself stand straight and face him. Making her arms stay down at her sides and not, as they desperately wanted to, come over to cover herself.

Paolo’s searching eyes on the palely rounded flesh. On the pink nipples. On the brown tuft at the undercurve of her belly. He moved slowly round, behind her. Without warning his big hand sharply smacked one firm bottom-cheek. Antonia gave a gasping grunt.

‘Shall we whip you then? Anyway? You certainly didn’t do it when I told you.’

She was trembling from the stinging smack; from the smack of his hand on her bare bottom. He was probably going to whip her anyway, she could sense that. Some excuse. Or none. ‘Please…’

He gave her the pink thing. ‘Put this on. Then I’m going to smack your bottom. There’ll be a whipping later I expect. That’s what you need.’ He took her chin, making her look at him. ‘That’s what a girl needs, eh Tonia?’

Antonia took the pink garment. It was a little nightdress; very short, coming barely down to her hips. The kind you normally wear pants with. But there were no pants. Apart from her tits she was as bare as before. Her bottom, and the tuft of hair in front. She was going to be spanked. Now. Paolo was sitting down on the bed. Taking her arm, pulling her down. Yes. He was going to spank her bare bottom. And later… he was going to whip her. With a strap. But now…

Over his lap. Her face across and in the pink bedcover. Her arm being held behind her back, so that she couldn’t move. So that her bottom was kept where Paolo wanted it. His other hand on it. Pushing the full flesh into position. Then her legs, her thighs. She gave a squeaky moan into the cover. Her arm was hurting and there was that hand making free with her bare bottom and thighs. His hand and his eyes on her intimate parts. Another whimpering moan. And then the first hard smack of that hand. Knocking the breath out of her. A vicious, stinging splat.

They rained down. Really hard, agonising smacks, each making a pistol-like crack as Paolo’s leathery palm met Antonia’s tender rear. Her lower body desperately jerked and writhed but the arm behind her back was held painfully firm. Not that Antonia was really trying to struggle free. She knew she had to accept meekly what was happening and any show of resistance would make things much worse. But Antonia was writhing and rolling nonetheless; she couldn’t help herself. Nor could she help the shrill squeals and yelps. Paolo’s hard hand, with that muscular right arm, was killingly painful.

‘You were fighting it,’ he told her when at last he had finished. ‘A girl is supposed to keep still and take it, not fight and make all that noise.’

She was standing now. Gasping for breath, eyes full of hot tears. She hadn’t been fighting against it but there was no point arguing. ‘So we need more, eh Tonia? We can’t have a girl making all that fuss for a mere spanking.’

Paolo had got to his feet. The back of his hand rubbed across the peaks of her pointy tits as he had done before only now there was no bra, only the flimsy pink garment.

‘The strap, Tonia. We’ll use the strap, eh?’

Antonia didn’t answer. Paolo could use what he wanted. She was here to be disciplined, that was the object of her visit. His hand came down and slapped her flank. ‘Get in bed.’

Obediently she turned to the bed. Her now glowing bottom was presented once more to Paolo as she bent to pull back the cover. He eyed it, and delivered a final sharp smack. Antonia stumbled in and pulled the cover up over her. She was almost twenty but she felt like a little girl.

Paolo gave her a silent, thoughtful look and then went out. Antonia closed her eyes. She had known this would happen of course. This or something like it. Or at least that it was very likely. On the train from her home she had been thinking of nothing else. She had tried to tell herself that perhaps it wouldn’t happen. That she would do exactly what Paolo and Maria required of her and they would see she was a sensible and obedient girl who would behave properly without resorting to what she knew girls of her age frequently got. But that had only been a dream. It had happened almost as soon as she was in the house, for that silly thing she had said. But that had only been an excuse. Uncle Paolo would have done it anyway.

She opened her eyes. He was downstairs. Getting a strap. She hadn’t fought against the bare-bottom spanking even though it had been the most awful, humiliating thing. But now she was going to get a proper whipping. A leather strap. It was bound to be much worse even than what she had just had. There would be no way she could keep still for it, or keep back the desperate, frantic yells.

She looked fearfully round the little room. It felt hotter, the sun would be moving round, to burn against that heavy curtain. It was hot under the bed cover and her bottom was still hot from Paolo’s hand but she kept the cover up almost to eye level. It gave a token protection. But there would be no protection when shortly…

In just a few minutes he came in. Antonia looked and quickly looked away. He had a thin leather strap in his hand. He came over and looked silently down at her. His hand took the top of the bedcover and slowly stripped it back. Antonia was exposed completely in her single inadequate garment. She shivered. Her mouth opened, and closed again. Paolo sat down on the side of the bed. A sardonic little grin.

‘So Tonia is still too hot perhaps?’

His hand pinched a soft breast. ‘Eh?’

‘No,’ she whispered.

He gave a little laugh. His hand pinched her other breast. ‘Well we’ll give her something to be hot about, eh? Come on. Get up. Let’s see how you like it.’

Maria, in her kitchen downstairs now, shortly heard the tell-tale shrill cries. Cries that she herself had emitted as a girl — and indeed subsequently as well. She heard the cries but got on with what she was doing. It was nothing, no more than what a girl had to have. Outside the hot sun continued to burn down.